Corlis' Love Life

Corlis’ wife left him last week. They’d been on rocky ground for the past few years anyway, what with her being so quick to anger and all. Course truth be told, I imagine Corlis isn’t the easiest guy to be married to either, he’s obsessed with his car and Christopher Walken movies. In fact it was his bidding on an original script of the Dead Zone on ebay that was the straw that broke the camels back. He tells me that he wasn’t serious about getting it, he just wanted that feeling that for a brief moment, he was owner of a small part of Christopher Walken’s life.

I feel bad for him really. Not that Trish left him; She didn’t like any of his friends and I never much cared for her either. It’s just that in the long run, he’ll be better off with out her, but in the now, he’s feeling all like it’s his fault and he’s running around town buying chocolates and roses in some romantic notion that if he can just buy her enough crap, she’ll come back to him and that can start from where they left off.

I’ve been giving him a ride home from the mill lately cause is 73 GTO threw a rod and he doesn’t have the money to do a tear down right now. He has Trish’s old Jetta, but he says he’s rather walk than drive a car made by VW. I don’t mind that much cause it’s not all that far out of the way but I wish he’d just sell the Jetta to pay for the rebuild. Of course that would just screw with is belief that she’s coming back.

“What if she comes back and I’ve sold her car?”

h I try to tell him that if she really wanted that car, she would have taken it with her. I don’t try to remind him that the guy she left him for already bought her a Celica with a sunroof. I guess some people have a hard time moving on, you know? Sometimes being a friend requires being a broken record and sometimes it requires you to just turn the whole stereo off. In truth I’ve been trying not to say all that much on the way home.

The day she left the rains started up again.

We both keep the windows down though, me because the city feels clean and new, and he…I don’t know. Maybe the rain reminds him of her. Maybe the rain stinging against his arm is the closest he feels to being alive.

Then again, it could just be that it’s my car, and if my window’s down, he better do the same and roll his down his as well. Hell, I’d do the same for him.

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